The Maker of Entropy

by John Triptych

  Several of the Exalted came out onto the top deck of their vessels and surveyed the destruction they had helped wrought. No emotions were displayed since all wore the distinctive mask of twisted bronze to cover their hidden features. The three other land ships of the Exalted formed a line behind the first as they began a slow, circular course around the masses of ruined sand sails.

  A strange gibbering roar was heard across the smog, coming from the other direction, away from the broken masses of bronze, leather, and men. Several of the Exalted turned and peered into the mist, their once emotionless demeanors transforming into a state of inquisitive confusion. After a few moments of utter silence, the six on the deck of the lead ship looked at each other, each man wondering if what they had heard was just in their imagination.

  One of them strode over to the port side of the deck and peered out into the wall of haze, making a silent signal to the others he had seen something out there, but as to what it was he couldn’t be sure. Three of the others walked over until they all stood beside him, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was present, but to no avail. One of them turned to look at the other three and shrugged, suggesting perhaps it was nothing more than a figment of their imagination.

  Without warning, a gigantic, fleshy hand reached out from above them and plucked two of the unlucky crewmen from the deck before withdrawing back into the fog. The remaining pair of Exalted ran towards the door leading into the ship’s interior when another hand appeared out of the fog, this time its digits were curled together into a massive, pulsating fist that descended on top of them, completely crushing their bodies into a mangled bloody pulp.

  The gigog moved closer towards the surprised fleet of Exalted, finally revealing its colossal self to its enemies. The giant creature’s hulking torso was three times the length of their ships, and it began pounding at their hulls with its massive fists, caving in the side of the bronze framework as if they were made of leather. The Exalted had no time to react as the monster moved swiftly, sometimes retreating back into the fog whenever they attempted to bring their cannons to bear, only to reappear either behind them or at an angle in which they were unable to fight back.

  It didn’t take long until all four of the Exalted land ships had been reduced to crumpled wrecks, their crews crushed within the broken hulls of their once fearsome vessels.

  Bugurt had been helping the wounded when he had to take cover as the Exalted began their cannon fire on the remaining survivors. He kept peering just above the gunwale when the gigog attacked the ones who were fighting him. Bugurt had only heard the lost tales of giant beasts guarding some unknown treasure in the forbidden lands, and he couldn’t help but stare up in awe as the gigog strode on by after finishing off the Exalted.

  A small crowd from the disparate tribes had also survived the onslaught, and they stood up alongside with him to have a look, for the gigog seemed to ignore them. One of the men cried out and pointed at something on the back of the giant beast as it moved past them.

  Bugurt tilted his head up and placed the looking crystal in his right eye for a closer look. The moment he saw her, Bugurt staggered backwards, completely dumbfounded.

  One of the men, a wounded Zaash tribesman, turned and looked at him. “What did you see?”

  Bugurt drew out a deep breath before he answered. “There was a Gorgon riding on the back of its neck. Her hair was the color of fire.”

  Chapter 29

  It started out like a faint echo, an almost indistinguishable whisper hidden amongst the maelstrom of chaos within his mind. In time the voice gradually built up its intensity, drowning out everything else. Something was trying to pull him back amongst the living.

  “Zeren.”

  The soft whisper had been faint, but it kept persisting until it coalesced into a whirlwind of fury. Its enticements were once subtle, like an unimportant request. But it rapidly transformed itself into a desperate plea, a culpable stigma that seared past the walls of his abeyance, until he could no longer suppress it.

  “Zeren, help me! Please!”

  A mental image soon formed in his cerebrations. He could see her soft, lanky hair; the bright-eyed innocence of a child’s face. At first, she smiled at him. When he tried to wave her form off in order to get back to sleep, she persisted. Blanking the simulacrum away, he had thought it had been nothing more than a memory of his past failure, only to be thrown back into the present as her face manifested itself right before his eyes, more radiant than ever before. That was when he realized he could no longer forget the antecedence of events, and the pain of his existence slowly returned. He had made a vow, and now he had to go through with it.

  Zeren opened his eyes and sat up. He was lying on the main deck of the Lethean sand sail, the cast patterns of the bronze flooring so ever familiar to him. The sun had begun to set, and he could tell they were out in the open wastes as he felt the churning of the ship’s wheels beneath him, the moderate winds caressing his hair. Coughing, he ran his hand along the hole in his armored chest, a reminder of his recent brush with death.

  Todrul had been standing on the quarterdeck beside the ship’s wheel, and the moment he saw Zeren sitting up on the main deck, he hurried over towards him. “Zeren! Are you well?”

  He let out a deep breath. The last thing he felt before oblivion overtook him was a crushing blow that knocked the air out of his lungs, but now everything seemed natural again. His throat was dry, the words gruff. “What … what happened?”

  Todrul sighed with relief. He handed Zeren a leather bladder full of warm water. “They released us. I had not expected it, but the gods must have intervened on our behalf.”

  Zeren uncorked the waterskin and took a long gulp, the liquid helping to alleviate his parched throat. Wiping the droplets from his chin, he stared into the other man’s eyes. “Who let you go?”

  “The Khatun,” Todrul said. “No sooner had Wulfgen rallied his fleet and headed for battle, she at once grew desperate, for it seemed she could no longer be away from him. At that moment, I had thought she would order our execution, but I believe she finally realized we had no part to play in their struggle- it was all between them. In the end, she ordered her men to free us and we were allowed back onto our sand sail. We manned this vessel and left as quickly as we could.”

  Zeren looked around. Sure enough, no one else had died, and now the remaining members of the expedition were all safe. “What happened then?”

  “As we began to move away from the hold, we all saw the remaining land ships there had also put up their sails and they were racing towards the direction of the battle,” Todrul said. “It took us most of the day to find the wreck of your vessel.”

  “How were you able to find me?”

  Todrul looked away. “Miri.”

  Zeren’s eyebrows shot up. “Miri? Is she here?”

  Todrul shook his head. “No, she sent a message into my mind. It seemed she had somehow learnt of where you were, and she directed us to proceed and find you with undue haste. It felt like her Vis was far stronger than ever before, for she had never been able to mindspeak with me unless she was within earshot.”

  Zeren bit his lip. “Orilion is dead.”

  Todrul let out a sigh. “Yes, we noticed his body amongst the wreckage. We quickly buried him in the sand. There were other corpses, and we laid them to rest as well. What happened out there?”

  “Orilion and I thought up of a scheme to free you and the others,” Zeren said softly. “It failed.”

  “I see.”

  Zeren remembered he had been wounded in his chest. “How was I healed?”

  “There was one remaining flask of the elixir hidden in the ship’s hold,” Todrul said. “Orilion had told me about it just before we parted ways. I poured it down your throat and placed a bit of it on your wound.”

  “We are we headed now?”

  Todrul pointed towards a small rock outcropping just ahead. “There. Miri told us to go to that place.”

  Zere
n slowly got up and scanned the horizon. “So she was to meet us there?”

  “I believe so, for those were the instructions she placed in the minds of the entire crew.”

  One of the deckhands who served as the lookout at the bow of the sand sail pointed at something lying on top of one of the boulders. “Look over there!”

  Zeren and Todrul made their way over to the forecastle. Both men squinted as the ship got ever closer.

  Todrul leaned forward, only half-believing what he saw. “Is that Rion? He seems to be just sitting on a cleft of rock in the middle of nowhere.”

  Zeren peered ahead. Sure enough, the boy’s features were clearly visible as he seemed to be sulking on the rock. Looking around, Zeren couldn’t see anyone else nearby.

  Todrul cupped his hands so the boy could hear them as the sand sail was but a few paces away. “Rion, where is Miri?”

  Zeren sensed something was amiss. “I will retrieve the boy, the rest of you stay here and prepare the sand sail to leave at once.”

  As Todrul began to order the crew to turn the vessel around, Zeren jumped down from the bow and used his mindforce to cushion his landing onto the hard stone. What was the boy doing here by himself? Making his way to Rion, he made a faint smile while striding up into the higher end of the flattened rock.

  He held out his hand. “Rion, thank the gods you are safe. Come, let us get back onto the sand sail so we may return to Lethe.”

  The boy looked up at him. There was sadness in his eyes. “I do not wish to go back.”

  Zeren’s face turned into a mask of concern as he crouched down beside him. “What has happened? Where is Miri?”

  Rion swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears from breaking out. “She has left me!”

  “What? Explain.”

  “She knew about the Maker,” Rion said softly. “In order to bring life back into the world the living god must be defeated. I wanted to accompany her but she refused. When I insisted, Miri sang a song that put me to sleep. When I awakened she had left me here.”

  Zeren’s jaw clamped shut. “She was looking to spare you from the rigors and uncertainties of battle, Rion. She cares about you so deeply, she did not want to place you in any more danger.”

  “But she needs me! The Maker is guarded by the Last of the Three, a Gorgon!”

  Zeren tried his best to hide his own surprise. “A Gorgon? Then her own quest shall be one in which she will never return from.”

  “When we met the Keeper, he revealed Miri’s true lineage- she too is a Gorgon,” Rion said. “But the power of Elayris is so vast, she must have allies to help her in this battle, or else she will die.”

  It was one shock too many. Zeren’s knees nearly buckled but he somehow kept his balance. “Miri … is a Gorgon?”

  “She is the daughter of Neth and the Magus Kaelr. Her power grows in time, but she would still not be strong enough to face her mother’s sister!”

  “But … if we come to her aid, it shall be against her wishes, she wants to keep you safe, Rion.”

  The boy stood up, he could see the desperation in Rion’s eyes. “I do not care about my life! If Miri is in danger, then it is only fitting I help her!”

  Zeren looked down. His own sense of guilt was plaguing him to do something, but the thought of going up against a Gorgon and an army of Exalted filled him with dread. He had just narrowly avoided death a mere few hours ago, should he tempt fate once more? “Rion, we stand a goodly chance of dying and it will all be for naught.”

  Rion stood firm. “If you do not wish to accompany me, I shall go alone.”

  Zeren got up. “I did not say that. I simply do not wish to anger Miri by bringing you with me to fight by her side.”

  “It is my choice,” Rion said. “Please aid me, Zeren.”

  Zeren looked back out towards the waiting sand sail. He was sure Thalena was still alive at least, for it was her voice he kept hearing every time he closed his eyes. He made up his mind right then. He would do it for the little girl, for he had made a vow to her. And for Miri. “Very well. We shall make our way to them. Miri shall not face her enemies alone.”

  Rion’s eyes quickly brightened. He leapt up and gave Zeren a hug. “Thank you. But I do not know where this Mountain of Entropy is. We may have to find the teller in the Khanate holdings and question him for the exact whereabouts.”

  Zeren gave him a wink. “There is no need. I know of what directions we must take.”

  Rion looked at him quizzically. “But how could you have fathomed that?”

  “A little girl told me. She branded my mind with the path to the accursed place,” he said. “Let us be off, for there is not a moment to lose.”

  Chapter 30

  The gigog loomed over her, its pale, hulking shoulders more than four times her own height. She had been riding on the back of its neck for nearly the entire day, but this was the first instance in which she had the opportunity to stare into its skeletal face. There was a sadness in its milky white eyes for it was the last of its kind; cursed to live out a lonely existence filled with hate and destruction. At one time she had felt much contempt for the giant creature, yet now she had reached a certain level of understanding and even a little respect.

  Miri raised her left hand in a gesture of peace. “Farewell.”

  The gigog turned and moved away, its monstrous form slowly disappearing behind the veils of mist. The beast would no doubt return to its domain, so it would continue its relentless guardianship for the eons to come.

  Turning around, Miri could see the massive precipice of the Mountain of Entropy before her, its ruptured apex belching forth the very haze which covered the land. The tiny machines called nanites were no doubt dwelling within the gaseous soup surrounding her, and were the true cause of much of the world’s misery. She needed a way to shut the infernal machine down, so the abundance of life might return to the world.

  At the base of the frozen sand stood carved stone steps that seemed to stretch upwards into infinity. Placing her boots on the first gradation, she began the ascent. The howling winds continued to flutter the cloak she wore, almost knocking her off balance until she used a bit of Vis to keep herself steady.

  In time, the relentless climb up the stairs had begun to tire her legs. Miri altered her thoughts and provided some soothing aid with her mindsense, numbing down the pain receptors until she could hardly feel it. Up above she could see the flicker of orange lights, indicating an opening at the very top of the steps.

  Within moments, she had made it onto a plateau which jutted out just below the peak. At the end of the mesa was a massive opening, a gigantic cavern leading into the mountain itself. Once she had made it onto the upland, the air seemed strangely still, as if some invisible force was holding back the swirling winds that had been assailing her during the climb. Dropping her cloak onto the smooth, stony ground, Miri held her father’s spear with both hands and proceeded towards the grand entrance.

  There was a small group of people up ahead of her. Miri braced herself, mentally preparing for battle as she continued onwards. As she got closer, the ones standing before her were obviously the Exalted, and there were no more than seven of them. The moment she got to within a distance of a hundred paces, the group suddenly lined up in a strange formation, each going on one knee and collectively bowing their heads.

  The mental interference all around her was intense, no doubt an attempt by Elayris to guard her allies against Miri’s mind probes. Nevertheless, Miri burned through the immediate thought defenses of the gathered Exalted in front of her, attempting to discern their true intentions. Despite her senses telling her the sentinels were not hostile to her presence, she stayed on guard as she moved past them and ventured forth into the hollow.

  Upon entering the sacred caverns of the Temple, she spotted another of the Exalted moving towards her. She immediately recognized him as the First, for the mask he wore had a uniquely bizarre visage. Clenching her jaw, she prepared to launch an attack i
n the event of any aggression on his part.

  When the First got to within a few paces in front of her, the Exalted leader held up his right hand. “You are to come with me.”

  Miri nodded silently.

  Turning around, he led her slowly through a wide corridor and past the desolate main hall, before entering into a narrow tunnel. Trailing but a few steps behind, she noticed something familiar about the sword he was carrying, but said nothing. She also felt it strange she had not been asked to leave her weapon behind.

  At the end of the subterranean passageway was another set of stairs, this time seemingly carved into the basalt interior of the hollow mountain. There was another chamber up above, indicating they were near the heart of the volcano itself.

  Instead of mounting the steps, the First turned sideways and gestured at her to continue on alone. “The Oracle awaits you.”

  Miri began her climb while making a wary glance at the First, who remained immobile like a statue at the base of the stairway. The bright orange and yellow spheres floating around near the stalactites at the ceilings of the place were remarkably similar to the ones used by Xith the Keeper, and Miri surmised these glowing things were no doubt machines of some sort as well.

  The top of the stairs terminated into an open set of bronze doors. Passing through the entryway, Miri soon found herself inside a massive cavern, its ceiling leading up into a hole, revealing the clear eventide sky above. Nearing the far end of the great chamber was a gradual incline of the stone base, reaching up into what looked to be the edge of a giant, glowing pit spewing the ever present mists upwards towards the opening.

  Miri squinted. There was a pale, bloated form sitting near the perimeter of the glowing abyss. She could not tell from her vantage point as to what it truly was for it seemed to have its back turned. The mental strain of keeping her up psychic defenses was taxing much of her mind, and Miri struggled to maintain a clear line of thought. If she had not empowered herself during her time with Xith, Miri was certain she would have fallen under the enemy’s influence by now.